funeral for flowers

August 6, 2009
By Anonymous

We got into or very own motorcade
police blocking or path
and in the slender black car we cut through traffic
and I was crammed into a side seat
(i was barely thinking at all)
and neither was the kid next to me
(all of us were only kids)
as he stared out the window
i did too (kids burying kids)
(the Flowers were about to go under)

I was a pallbearer
(don't drop him, god no)
and we took him places
(only sleeping! he's just sleeping)
like churches and then the final stop
and the cold air cut into my face
(the car doors slammed and we were at it again)
so many hot tears for all of us
and the coffins were sitting on metal plates
above the holes
(look at the flowers)
and roses (red, dark red and pink)
(we all took one) but (they were dead)
and (they looked dead) and (everyone was crying 'cus of the dead)
and the cold, cold wind (we did it) we
(lifted josh, he can now sleep) and (so many tears) and (i can't take
my eyes off the flowers) and (will I ever feel anything but sorrow?)
(the Flowers are under)

The author's comments:
It is chaotic and experimental in form, as is it deeply personal and completely true.

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